I force a laugh, turning away and reaching for my clothes. I need to get the hell out of here, right now.
“Hey.” He sits up beside me. “Where are you going?”
“Well, you know.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, doing up my bra.
“You could stay. I’d like you to.”
I turn around, letting myself look at him. He’s not smug. He’s not his usual arrogant self. He’s sincere and open and sweet—and I can’t stand it.
“Sorry.” I yank my panties and jeans up my legs. “I have a ton of work to do with the store, so I need to get up early.” I pull my tank top on over my head, glancing around for my boots.
“Seriously?” His tone makes me turn around again. He almost looks hurt, and I soften.
“Seriously. Come on, Myles. Snuggling and sleepovers weren’t part of the deal.”
His face falls a little. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t think you’d run out of here immediately, though.”
I ponder his disappointed expression, feeling a tug in my chest as I waver. He reaches for me, taking my hand, letting his thumb trace a little circle on my palm. For a moment I imagine crawling back into bed with him, snuggling into his warmth, falling asleep beside him. That would be… fuck, that would be really nice.
But then what? I wake up and go to work and… what? It’s been a long time since I slept beside a guy, and I’m not going to start doing that unless it’s part of something bigger—somethingreal. And I know I can’t have that with Myles. I know better than to want that with someone like him. Cory’s warning comes back to me and I feel my resolve harden.
“Thanks for tonight. It was fun. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”
His eyes dart over my face and he exhales heavily. “Yeah. It was fun.” He pulls his hand away, dragging his gaze from mine.
“Hey.” I give him a gentle shove. “It’s not supposed to be awkward, remember? We agreed.”
He looks at me again, squaring his shoulders and giving me a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. It won’t be. I’ve got lots to do on the site anyway, so it’s probably best if you go.”
“Great.” I pull my boots on and push to my feet, grabbing my purse off the bench.
Myles props himself up on the bed, still buck naked. “Let me call you a cab, or—”
“It’s okay.” I hold up my phone. “I’ll get an Uber.” I take a moment to mentally record the sight of his bare, beautiful body, then turn for the door. “Bye, Myles,” I say, stepping outside.
And as much as I really don’t want to, I make myself close the door and head home.
20
Roses.
Today, I was sent roses—from Shane, of all people. It’s like he sensed I was out there having sex with someone else and felt the need to get in touch, to tell me that he “hated how we left things in the cab.”
I mean, honestly. Too little, too late, buddy.
I’ve never been sent flowers at work before, and for one stupid moment—I’m embarrassed to admit—I thought maybe they were from Myles. I tried to ignore the disappointment that seeped into me when I saw Shane’s name on the card instead.
And when Myles emailed me with an update about the site—and made no mention of last night—I should have been relieved. But I’d be kidding myself if I said I didn’t feel a little sting at the way he acted as though nothing had happened between us. I know I was the one who wanted that, but the truth is I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. The feeling of his hands on my skin, that sound he made as I took him into my mouth, the way he looked at me when he asked me to stay…
Anyway. Maybe it’s a good thing the roses weren’t from Myles. The last thing I want to do is develop some sort of crush on him after sleeping with him. Besides, I don’t think sending a girl flowers would be his style, somehow. It certainly wasn’t Mark’s.
I set the flowers down on the kitchen counter and toe off my combat boots. It’s been a long, busy day at work and I should be happy to be home, but after last night with Myles, it’s feeling a little lonely coming back to my quiet apartment. I can’t help but imagine what it might be like if he were here, sharing a drink with me, maybe climbing into bed—
Ugh. Enough.
There’s a knock on the door just as I’m taking a bottle of wine from the fridge, and I sigh. There go my plans to flop down in front of Netflix and try to forget everything.
I swing the door open and Alex is on the other side, beaming. “Finally, you’re home!” She’s effervescent with excitement as I let her in.
